


No Honor in Death

by TheLoneDrumBeats



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Avatar Zuko (Avatar), F/M, Gen, It says death but not really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:09:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28253685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLoneDrumBeats/pseuds/TheLoneDrumBeats
Summary: A battle goes horribly wrong and, instead of peaceful rest, Zuko finds himself far from home and reeling from the experience. He's faced with a choice and he realizes very soon, that there is no honor in death.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27





	No Honor in Death

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Southern Lights](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6039316) by [colourwhirled](https://archiveofourown.org/users/colourwhirled/pseuds/colourwhirled). 



> Hey there! I wrote this little piece after thinking about it for a few days, there is a second part to this and I was also thinking of expanding this to be a full-fledged fic if there's enough interest in it. It draws inspiration from the Consider Chaos series by AvocadoLove, which is simply outstanding, as well as Southern Lights by colourwhirled. As a matter of fact, this is a bit of a fic of a fic, it's something I imagined happening while reading and I simply could not stop thinking about it. While this piece can very easily stand on its own, you will have a better time understanding it if you read that story (Southern Lights) or at least the first 26 or so chapters of it. My ideas for expansion here go far beyond any inspirational material, however, which is why I don't really consider it an alternate universe of the author's story. All that aside, I wrote a little doozy here and if ya like it and want to see more, be sure to let me know. Things will get explained a bit better in the accompanying chapter(s?).  
> P.S I've never written anything even remotely like this before, I apologize for any stumbling or mistakes. Advice, suggestions, and just overall critiques are always welcome.

Cold, the ground was frigid below him and he could almost feel his back protesting his position. He felt wrong, very wrong like there was something he was forgetting. A purpose perhaps? He wasn’t sure why he felt so profoundly lost but the more he thought about it the more the feeling squeezed him. His heart pounded against the cold grip of incomprehensible dread and he had to close his eyes. He needed to center himself, that much he knew, so he forced his lungs to steady and his breathing to slow. _Relax, just relax. We are fine, there’s no reason to freak out…yet._ He wrestles himself into a meditative position, focusing on nothing but his breath and the curl of his hands in his lap. Slowly he begins to extend his mind, past his immediate surroundings and onto the questions threatening to overwhelm the wavering calm he’s fought for. _Ok, I don’t know where I am. But I also have no clue what I was doing before…all of this…whatever this is. I don’t even know my name._ That thought catapults him out of his calm revere into a frenzy of panicked breaths and he fights to keep his pulse from bursting out of his neck. He decides maybe meditating on his place in the universe, or even something as trivial as his _name_ is not the best idea. 

He slowly rises from his place on the floor, the dusty texture of it not escaping his thoughts. He assumes it makes sense to be dirt, the dark navy-blue expanse in front of him decidedly does not look like any room he’s been in. Even if he had, he reasons, he most likely wouldn’t recall that now. The ground around him is densely populated with strange rock formations, some straight up and down reaching almost to his own height while many others lay across the ground with a width equal to that. There’s a formation directly to his left quite a bit smaller than the others, the top of it only barely reaching the middle of his chest. Almost acting on their own, his legs carry him towards it. The wrong feeling still lingers in his mind and limbs, he can feel it in the way he walks his very soul wringing with an apprehensiveness he hadn’t felt before. His vision sharpens as he approaches and he realizes his eyes had been hazy and unfocused, what used to look like a rock now resembles a tree or cactus. Even still it looks wrong, no tree has two trunks like that or only three branches. Especially not arranged as they are. With two jutting horizontally from the main tree while another shoots straight out the top. He’s only a couple of feet away now and his unease increases ten-fold, and he realizes that the feelings aren’t all his.

The oppressive wrong-ness feels alien now compared to his own unease; it feels like someone else is with him now, whispering in his ear, ‘ _watch out, watch out’_. He strides forward and now he can clearly make out a face, it looks like a woman. _No, she looks young still. Not quite an adult yet._ Her arms are raised like she’s holding something heavy and her face looks stricken, the effort of whatever she’s doing is obvious. He turns to look at the other formations and his vision extends even further than before; he can now clearly make out hundreds upon hundreds of stone people all around him. The ones laying down aren’t as detailed as the girl in front of him, they’re too rigid. Something is missing from their features and he… he can’t quite...make it out. _They’re dead_. The thought comes from nowhere, he isn’t entirely sure it’s his thought at all, but he knows it’s right. Suddenly it all comes back, a crack and a loud explosion and it all rushes back to him. He collapses from the pain and force of it, having his mind shoved back in thought by thought. He falls to his knees, hands coming up to his head cradling, pushing, wishing for it to all stop. _My…my name is Zuko,_ He remembers now, _I was…fighting...yes, yes I was fighting the…the Dai Li...yes, yes that sounds right._ He struggles to decipher the information rushing and breaking into his mind like a sea battering the shoreline, _I was with Toph…and Aang…and…and Katara! Yes, I was with them and we were fighting the Dai Li, but now I’m here. Why am I here? The last thing I remember…I got hit, I think._

The memory strikes him and suddenly he leaves the blue hellscape and he’s surrounded by flame and rocks. There’s yelling everywhere and he feels pain, so much pain he can hardly think. There’s a line of green and gold in front of him, rocks are sailing over it and he can see Toph batting them out of the air and intercepting them explosively with projectiles of her own. He struggles to stand and to his right, he can see Aang curled up and breathing shallowly, a shout drags his attention back to the gilded line and suddenly it collapses forward. Shields drop and a horde of green cloaks charge forward through an onslaught of stone, some wielding spears, and others with swords. Deadly curved blades and shiny polished green handles gripped tightly by charging masses. Toph is somewhere to his left and he hears her yelling something at him, and then as quick as lightning he feels something slide along his neck and chest. He gurgles up a response and the only thing that leaves his mouth is a stream of blood and a short exhale. A high-pitched scream erupts from somewhere, but everything is so bright he can’t keep his eyes open. His hearing is fading out, but he thinks the screams have a rhythm to them, it seems enough syllables to be, “Zuko”, but he isn’t sure. His heart beats a frantic staccato under his breast and his lungs struggle to bring air in while the space is filled with something warm and metallic. His vision goes red and he feels like he’s falling asleep, his heart is weak now and his lungs are on fire with desperation and a lack of oxygen. He can’t think of much of anything but as his world slowly grows darker a single thing comes to mind, a name, _Katara_ , and then there’s nothing but blue and cold and stone corpses. _I’m dead_.

He’s in shock. He can’t think of anything but the pain, of what must have been sharpened steel, and the screams that called his name. He’s gone and yet he’s still somewhere. He feels the pain and sorrow of it all, he’ll never hug his uncle again or share smiles with his friends, _Katara. I’ll never see her again_. The thought is cold and sharp, piercing his heart and ripping his throat. He can no longer keep the despair and tears at bay. He cries, he cries like he never has before.

He doesn’t know how long he spends like that, but his body shakes with tears for much longer than he would feel comfortable sharing with anyone. _Not that I’ll ever speak to anyone again._ The hollow thought reaches his mind, and he knows if he had any tears left to shed that he would’ve started anew. 

He sits up on his knees from where he had fallen to the ground, wiping his eyes, and preparing himself for a new round of devasting despair, only to be interrupted by something. It’s quiet and faint but he hears it calling to him, a melody that seems almost familiar. He gets up to his feet shakily and slowly starts after the sound, it grows stronger as he walks. The farther he walks the stronger it gets, past stone bodies, and through a doorway made of intricately woven roots, he follows the song. A blinding light hit’s him squarely and he can’t make out any of his surroundings, the haunted forest of stone soldiers fades away, and with it that alien unease.

\----------------------------

When his eyes clear and he can see once more he takes in this new prison, in the center, there is a massive tree that twists upwards and he notices the absence of leaves on its branches. Turning in a shallow circle he can make out twin spouts of light shooting skyward with a steady thrumming of energy, not unlike the crackle of lightning, but less aggressive and many times more powerful. Crevices and craters make up the majority of what he can see, with sharp rocks pushing up and sideways haphazardly. He can make out many cloudy mountains dotting the horizon, the tips of them without snow, and the sky in the distance looking dark and malevolent. He focuses himself solely on the tree, however, because he can still hear the song strongly drifting towards him. Recognition and a stab of sorrow shoot through his veins as the floating noise shifts from wordless sound to a sad Water Tribe melody.

He doesn’t catch the words like before, but he can hear Katara’s voice and accompanying flute. He feels hot prickles in the corners of his eyes, and he allows himself to remember a dark night near the water, the blissful surroundings pierced by her sorrow and his longing. His mind drifts to a passionate kiss by the same shore, he can nearly taste the fireball and he revels in the feeling of Katara’s soft touch. His memory shifts again, to the dark caves lit sparsely by green crystals. He feels anger and rejection, he looks into her eyes and sees despair and desolation. He races back to the present and with a choking gasp finds himself panting and, on his knees, his arms barely supporting his weight. He doesn’t hear the song any longer, but he staggers forward to the tree, urgency blindly taking over. He knows she isn’t here, but he can’t help longing, hoping to see her one last time. He rounds the base of the colossal tree to find an opening at least twice as tall and wide as he is. Something shifts in the darkness, but he doesn’t care, it isn’t Katara. He falls for the second time and this time he doesn’t bother holding himself up. He feels wretched. _Why? Why am I here? This is far too much, I thought death was supposed to bring peace not…not unending sorrow._ There are no tears to shed and no words to speak, he lies on the twisted brambles and feels so very alone.

\----------------------------

He opens his eyes once more and there is a darkness much more profound than before. Where once the sky was navy and shadowed, this current nightmare is pitch black excepting a malevolent red glow that seems to originate from behind his head. He rises and feels his exhaustion, not in his legs, but in his mind and he finds himself wishing for something more than death. Something much more final and much less sad. The opening of the tree is in front of him still but now it’s glowing red, a deep red that reminds him of blood. He approaches with reckless abandon, he figures that things can’t get any worse, until something shifts again in the darkness. He catches it with his eyes and slowly the thing becomes more solid, it glows a brilliantly deep red very nearly purple. _A…carpet?_ Strange markings decorate its front and a wispy tail floats behind it. “Hello, little dragon”, a deep gravelly voice intones from seemingly all around him.

“Who…who’s there?” He stammers out a little less confidently than he would have liked. He tries to call a flame forth, but nothing comes.

A deep chuckle clearly resonates from the tree, and he has no second thoughts about where the voice came from. “A friend…a very…powerful friend,” The voice says in a tone very reminiscent of his father but without the same silky inflection.

His hackles raise and he fights to keep the fear out of his voice, “And what’s this friend's name?”, he hears himself return strongly.

“I have been named many things throughout the history of this world; evil, chaos, darkness…” The unwavering voice pauses, “But you, little dragon, can call me Vaatu”, the last word lands with a tone that makes Zuko shiver. He’s sure that if evil carpets trapped in trees could smile, this one would be doing just that.

“Ok…Vaatu” He offers uncertainly, “Where are we? And…and what am I doing here” his voice cracks with sorrow and helplessness. He sees the thing in the tree shift even closer to the red wall and it crackles with energy.

“We are in the spirit world little dragon, and you are dead.” The voice says simply, bluntly, but he can almost hear the amusement dripping from its tongue. He doesn’t seem to be laughing _at_ Zuko, but it isn’t really with him either. _It wasn’t a very intelligent question_ , he thinks drily.

“What happens now? I always assumed death was a little more like ‘eternal rest’ instead of…whatever this is.” He gestures vaguely around, trying to get at his deepest sources of confusion and grief. This place doesn’t seem like the kind of in-between that people normally spoke of when discussing death.

Another dark laugh, “Now? Now I make you a deal.”.


End file.
